


Bedroom Hymns

by The_Falling_Star



Series: A call, a withering echo, and it sings all-knowing words [6]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Age Difference, Biting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dom W. D. Gaster, Dom!Gaster, Dom/sub, Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Ecto-Tongue (Undertale), Edgeplay, F/M, Hands, Light Bondage, Loss of Virginity, Marking, Mild Painplay, Oral Sex, POV Second Person, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Reader is named, Size Difference, Skeleton Sex (Undertale), Soul Bond, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, and lots of SMOOCHES, lots of aftercare, lots of hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:35:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26818921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Falling_Star/pseuds/The_Falling_Star
Summary: You and Gaster share so much together, your home, your SOULs...your bed. There’s just one more thing you want to share with him, just one step further that you want to go.And why won’t he take that step with you?
Relationships: W. D. Gaster/Original Female Character(s), W. D. Gaster/Reader, W. D. Gaster/You
Series: A call, a withering echo, and it sings all-knowing words [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1753795
Comments: 29
Kudos: 141





	1. Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place approximately one month after the events of [From the Mouth of an Injured Head](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23580004/chapters/58558999).
> 
> ...Well, here we are...The long-awaited smut fic for the sinners (guess it’s for the best it was so delayed, now we’re in Kinktober territory). I think I’ve spent more time re-writing this than any other fic so far. (Dear lord look at those tags, what the hell is this, oh sweet Arceus...)
> 
> I am well aware that some of the content of this fic is Problematic™ so mind the tags please, and for the love of god, it’s _fiction_.

_This is as good a place to fall as any_

_We'll build our altar here_

  
  


* * *

You strode down your hallway, back straight, head high, trying to pull every ounce of DETERMINATION from that singular red shard lodged in your SOUL. 

Stars above, you would need it.

The sight greeting you as you padded to the kitchen was a familiar one, comforting and sending your SOUL fluttering.

Gaster, of course.

...

_Stars_ , he was handsome.

He was sitting in a chair too small for his overly large frame, bowed over a stack of papers, mis-matched eyelights peering through his glasses, skimming over a report as he delicately drew in sips of black coffee. (The traitor did not share your fondness of tea, but if he was going to insist on drinking that bitter black brew, you insisted he do it right and bought him a pour-over setup and a burr grinder.) His sweater that hung perfectly from his skeletal form was rolled up past his elbows, ulna and radius on full display, one long, long leg crossed over the other, resting on one knee.

He was so refined, masculine yet elegant, so much more poise than you could muster on a good day. While here you were, hair still mussed from sleep, wearing one of his shirts (you ruthlessly and unapologetically stole them to sleep in) that fell past your knees with a bare shoulder inevitably peeking out through the too-wide collar. How the hell you managed to tether your SOUL to his was beyond you.

Ugh, why couldn’t you be Bravery?

You drew on the reserves of your DETERMINATION, marching up to the table where he sat, declaring your intention before you could chicken out.

“I want to have sex!”

Gaster spit out his sip of coffee, sputtering at your words.

<Now!?> He looked alarmed, eye sockets wide.

“Oh, shit, not, um...” your magic flared to life, summoning a kitchen towel in a halo of blue flame-like magic and dabbing the reports before they could get too terribly stained. Gaster had stood and conjured a floating skeletal hand to retrieve a napkin, wiping off the dribbles of coffee from his chin. 

“Sorry, no, not now,” you hastily said once the majority of the mess was cleaned up. He sighed in relief, and a small frown tugged at your lips. _This_ was what had you so hesitant and timid; Your fear that he didn’t want you as you wanted him, that he’d reject you again. “I, uh, just thought after our conversation, you would still want to...” you trailed off.

<We have to be at the embassy in thirty minutes, that is not nearly enough time.> he signed, canting his skull down towards you reproachfully.

“Oh.” you ducked your head as your face heated.

He curled a long phalange under your chin, tilting your head up so he could watch the blush creep over your cheeks, an amused smile spreading across his lips. <Of course I still want to, but do you recall what we discussed?>

  
  


Yeah...that...

  
  


That had been another slightly awkward situation. Ever since the void had relinquished its hold on your SOULs and you were both free to spend all the time with each other on the same plane of reality (finally!) you’d taken full advantage. 

Or, at least you _attempted_ to. 

Things had _slowly_ been escalating, mainly on account of Gaster’s reluctance. It started with his large skeletal hands feeling you up; his phalanges skimming along your stomach under the hem of your shirts as you kissed him until your lips were swollen and kiss-bruised, or his hollow palms gliding over your backside while you nibbled at his clavicle. You loved it, this dancing past previously drawn lines in the sand, always wanting more and trying to push him one step further, yet he seemed to restrain himself from encroaching too far into this new realm of intimacy.

Of course _you_ had to be the first one to breach the topic.

“How do monsters have sex?” you blurted one night while snuggling up to your skeleton beau in bed.

<Monsters, or _skeleton_ monsters?> he questioned, sitting up and raising a brow bone.

“Uh, skeletons. Specifically this skeleton.” you said, poking his bared sternum. You were both in nightclothes, him wearing only pajama pants and you in one of his pilfered shirts like a nightgown. He chuckled, deep and dark, like a secret you shouldn’t hear.

<Much in the same way humans do, my dear.>

“I mean, you don’t have a-” you flushed. Geez, you were supposed to be having an adult conversation about this, but instead you lowered your voice and near whispered, “the _equipment_.”

He hummed thoughtfully, then without warning rolled over onto you, caging you under him with the long bones of his limbs.

“Wha-” your question was cut off as he leaned his skull down, kissing you with a burning heat you had scarcely had seen before, his tongue rolling sinfully in your mouth. It was so sudden you could barely keep up, a delayed and half-hearted attempt made to reciprocate. You felt his hips dip down, pelvic bone grinding against you through your clothes and you let out a muffled squeak. Where was this coming from?? Who was this monster who had done little more than suggestive touches?

And then you felt it, his magic gathering, shifting, coalescing, forming something tangible, hard, thick and heated, its length grinding against your thigh, straining against his pants--

You broke the kiss, pulling back and staring up at him in shock.

“Holy shit, is that...?”

He grunted an affirmation, apparently not done with you yet, skull pressing against your neck so he could hungrily kiss and lick the skin there instead of your lips. His breaths came fast and ragged, ribs rattling as he bit down on the juncture of your neck and your shoulder, hard enough to bruise and a low moan to escape you, driven by an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain.

_Fuck_ , this monster was going to be the death of you.

He stayed painfully clamped down on your flesh, your moan a whimper now, until he calmed and his breathing slowed to a normal pace. Only then did he relent, soothing kisses dotting the tender spot before he pressed his long phalanges to your neck, green glow dancing between his fingers and sinking into your skin.

You sighed as his healing magic made you whole again, not a hint of his aggression left to see. You could feel his _other_ magic had dissipated as well, no longer grinding against you.

He drew back from you, bracing his body over yours with his arms, his hands planted on either side of your head. <Understand?> he signed with summoned hands.

You were a panting mess, wide-eyed and nerves lit up with arousal. 

“Yeah.” you breathed, “I mean, no, not really. Why--Is that--Do monsters--?” You couldn’t get a complete sentence out. 

<Do you remember what I said about skeleton monsters and humans?>

“We share a common ancestor...So you have...a magic dick?”

<A vulgar term, but an apt one I suppose. Skeleton monsters are distinct in that regard.> He bent down and kissed your nose, then pulled back to gaze at your multi-hued eyes. <You do know we don’t have to do that, yes? There are other methods of drawing pleasure from one another, we are not required to have intercourse if you do not wish it.>

He was so blunt sometimes. 

You really appreciated it.

“Well, what if I do?” your voice lacked any sort of conviction, and he pointedly stared down at you, raising a brow bone, “Well, not like right now, just some day.” you hurriedly amended.

You had a “some day” now. There had been a time when that wasn’t the case, when your life was counted in days and then hours, when you had once very desperately begged him to give you _something._ You weren’t even sure what you were asking for, just a desperate bid for intimacy before your untimely end.

(He’d told you no.)

<We take it slow. Investigate what you enjoy and go from there. It seems to have proven effective so far.> he let out a deep pleased growl against your neck, dragging the bone of his upper lip slowly over the spot he had just bit and healed. It made a whine escape you and your back arch slightly.

“That’s the most action I’ve seen since we started dating. Slow might be an understatement.” you groaned.

He pulled back again, looking down at you with concern. <You are a virgin.> he signed, plainly.

“Yeah, so?” your voice having a slight edge of offense. What did that matter?

<I don’t want to pressure you into anything you’re uncomfortable with.> he kissed your cheek, nuzzling his skull against your skin affectionately. 

“Since when have you pressured me into _anything?_ Besides, you didn’t seem to have that concern the first time you used your tongue to kiss me, or the first time you bit me, or the first time you groped my ass.” you said while counting off on your fingers, your tone still sharp, stinging with an old hurt. “I don’t get why you’re being so cautious now.”

<Surely I was not--> he froze, staring down at you, eye sockets wide with realization, <Have you not kissed anyone before me?>

“Of course not, I was terrible at it! I haven’t done _anything_ before you. You’re my first everything.”

He looked at you with a mixture of awe and amazement before claiming your lips again in a heated kiss.

There was a flicker to his magic, a ripple in his SOUL that echoed in yours, bound as they were to one another.

_Mine._

_All_ **_mine_** _._

  
  


_Always yours._

The thrumming reply was sent along silver threads that irrevocably tied you to him.

He reluctantly pulled back, his wide mouth smiling, eyelights warm as he took you in, laid out underneath him, willing and pure and _his._

<Very well,> he signed, grin turning wider, darker, <When you feel you are ready, we can engage in such acts.> he suddenly grabbed your chin in a firm grip, phalanges curled around your jaw, rendering you immobile as his eyelights bored into you, all amusement gone, <You must tell me if anything I do makes you uncomfortable. I had assumed we were operating as such but I want it plainly stated now. You will speak up, yes?> he released you, a serious as you’d ever seen him.

“Yeah, of course.” you replied. An easy smile spread across your face, in contrast to his earnest and stern expression. Your arms loosely wrapped around his neck, tugging him closer as you peppered slow kisses along his mandible. “You know I trust you.” you murmured against his bones.

He nodded slightly, too close for him to sign.

[That worries me.]

Gaster did not speak very often, preferring to use his hands instead of communicating in wingdings, but oh how you loved the deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. You felt him seize at the reaction to his voice, and you soothed him, your lips migrating lower and grazing over his vertebrae, tongue peeking out to lathe against his bones. Quietly, he groaned and you grinned, exultant at having elicited such a sound from the massive skeleton.

“What worries you?” you softly asked, lips brushing over the ridges of his spine as you spoke. 

He made a low sound, humming, growling, something primal and inhuman that shot straight to your core.

“Gaster?” you quietly questioned, feeling his labored breath making his rib cage expand and contract. He pulled back, and you frowned at the distance between your bodies.

<Apologies. _This_ is what worries me. That I would lose control of my faculties and you would allow me to do whatever I pleased.>

“I don’t see the problem.” you said, tilting your head.

He frowned in turn.

<You are small.>

You scowled. 

<“Rude!”> you flicked him in the center of his face with the sign.

He chuckled, rolling off to his side and gathering you up in his arms, kissing your hair. 

<I meant no offense. Only that I don’t wish to harm you.>

“I could dust you right now.” you pouted. It was a joke, but at the same time...

You were human. A mage. A very, _very_ powerful mage who re-wrote this timeline. There were few beings who could ever pose a true threat to you. 

Gaster was not one of them.

<I know.> he signed, not a hint of fear or reprisal, <But there is more than one way to harm another person, and the last thing I wish to do is abuse your trust.> He kissed your cheek again, lips of bone briefly brushing over your freckles, <Can we go slow, even if only for my sake?>

“Yeah,” you agreed, looking over at him eagerly. “But when I’m ready, we can do it, right?”

<Of course. Whatever you ask.>

You smiled at the old refrain, adding to it;

“I love you.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


That had brought you a week and some change later to today when you had decided.

You wanted Gaster.

_All_ of him.

What a terrifying and exhilarating prospect.

That of course had led to Gaster spitting coffee (not the sexy declaration you were hoping for) but your boyfriend quickly regained his composure, regarding you with only the slightest admonishing glare as you failed to answer his question. You lifted your chin, steadfast against the tall, intimidating monster. 

<If I may remind you, we agreed to take things slow.>

“Yeah?” you replied, confused. 

<By that I mean I do not wish to...> he blushed, and fuck if he couldn’t get a clear sentence out, what hope did you have? He cleared his non-existent throat, trying again, <Perhaps we work our way up to sex.>

“What do you mean?” you tilted your head, curious and cunning. You were going to make him spell it out for you, he realized. His blush deepened a darker shade of purple and you mischievously grinned wide, teeth showing. That earned a glare aimed down at you for finding such amusement in seeing him flustered. Getting the generally stoic skeleton to blush was probably your favorite thing in all the world.

<That we postpone sex for now and take it off the table temporarily.> Your grin dropped, instantly crestfallen. Was he telling you no, _again?_

< _Temporarily_ , my dear.> he reassured, sensing through the Bond your changing mood, <Perhaps for now we conduct some exploration utilizing...other methods...> his leaned down to nuzzle the nape of your neck, his fingers trailing down along your shirt front, over the flat of your stomach and reaching under the hem of the shirt. And unlike every other time he teased you like this, you felt his phalanges skimming lightly over your inner thigh, hard bone grazing bare skin, drawing a sharp gasp from you. His hand ventured further up, up, until they brushed over your panties. Your breath stuttered as you felt the barest hinting tease of his touch stroking back and forth along your most sensitive places. 

And _fuck_ he was certainly teasing, that was _exactly_ his intent, his phalanges just barely grazing over the cotton fabric. It wasn’t anywhere near enough pressure, and he knew it, bringing no satisfaction but perhaps hinting at the promise of it. Then, as if to extend his teasing torture, you felt the buzz of his magic and groaned quietly as his tongue trailed over the skin of your neck, up to a particularly sensitive spot behind your ear, just a brief taste, before he straightened back up and all traces of contact vanished, leaving you breathless and _wanting_. <Is that agreeable?>

You swallowed heavily, trying to regain a hint of composure. “What about me?” you barely managed the words, voice a wrecked warble.

It was his turn to look confused, genuinely this time, <I don’t follow.>

“When do I ‘conduct my exploration’ of you?”

<Later.> he signed with a grin, and you pouted in disappointment, <I know what I like, dearest. You do not. I want your first time to be perfect.>

“Was yours?” you crossed your arms, trying not to look especially petulant. It was difficult with how much taller your partner was.

<Irrelevant.> he signed sharply.

“So that’ll be a ‘no’.” you groused.

[Alex.] he said with a sigh, and that was _so_ unfair, how he could make you complacent with just the sound of his voice, <It would make me happy to do this for you. Would you please let me?> he asked, hands stroking up and down your upper arms placatingly. 

You sighed, uncrossing your arms and allowing them to drop to your sides, one of his hands gently skimming downwards and holding your wrist, if only to maintain contact, thumb brushing over your pulse point. He always did so love the warmth of your skin, the vital beat of your heart alleviating an old ache in him. “Fine. But I want to make you feel good too...When can we do this ‘exploration’ then?”

Some might find it odd to schedule sex like one did a dentist appointment, but in this you and Gaster were quite aligned; you wanted to know the When, Where, and How at all times, so you could prepare, in this case, mentally and emotionally for what was to come.

<Tonight, if you wish. When is your last appointment?>

You pulled out your phone, snickering to yourself. You could literally add “SEX” on your calendar if you wanted. Or maybe “INFURIATING FOREPLAY” instead, since he was denying you the former. “It ends at five.” you answered, the words snaking around your amusement.

The corner of Gaster’s lips curled ever so slightly as he fought to remain the stoic one. Older, experienced, unfazed.

What an adorable facade.

<Tonight then, after dinner, if you wish.>

“I do.” you said, more serious than you had been, but a smile still present all the same.

He leaned down, nipping at your earlobe before rumbling lowly; [It’s a date.]

  
  


* * *

  
  


Dinner was unusually tense. 

You made a light meal, figuring something heavy would put a damper on whatever activities you would find yourself engrossed in.

And _oh,_ how you wondered. You’d been a mess of nerves and excitement all day. This was something new and unexplored, territory that very, very few humans had ventured into, and you wanted to experience every bit of it, every bit of _him_ to the absolute fullest.

For Gaster’s part, you caught fervent looks cast your way on occasion, but otherwise your boyfriend had remained withdrawn throughout dinner. You offered to open a bottle of wine and he thoroughly declined. 

It reminded you of the first time you’d kissed him, seeing nervousness in his eyelights, only this time you could _feel_ it, threaded through his SOUL.

“Do you still want to do this?” you asked, chin resting on your palm, leaning on the cool kitchen countertop and watching his many summoned hands make efficient work of cleaning up after dinner was eaten.

<Of course.> he said, bending down towards you while his conjured hands still toiled away, dotting your cheek with reassuring pecks of his bony lips. You’d never met someone so good at multitasking as him. <Do you?>

“Yeah, it's just...you seem...reluctant.” your voice apprehensive.

He seemed to be gathering his thoughts as he nervously wrung a dish towel in his hollow hands, twisting it so hard you worried he might tear the fabric. <I should have perhaps brought this up sooner but,> he gave you a wry grin, <You are more familiar than any with my hesitation to speak on uncomfortable topics.>

“Bit of an understatement.” you stood up, striding over and reaching up to embrace him, and he automatically leaned down so you wouldn’t have to get up on tiptoe to wrap your arms around his broad rib cage. “I thought you agreed to try and be better about that.”

[So I did. Well...] he hesitated, drawing back and glancing down at you thoughtfully. <I am not sure why I so fear scaring you away, our SOULs are Bound together...Regardless, I wanted to inform you of certain...proclivities I have.> It was very rare his signs were so halting.

“What do you mean?” you asked, disconcerted.

<I am sure you’ve taken notice of how...aggressive I may be in our more intimate encounters.>

“Like when you climbed on top of me and started dry humping me without warning?” you said with an arched eyebrow and a slight grin.

<Yes, that would be such an instance.> You swore you saw violet magic dimly light his cheeks.

“Or whenever you bite me hard enough you have to use healing magic?”

He looked at you, worry playing out over his skull and SOUL alike that almost boarded on dismay. <Does it concern you when I do that? Any of it?>

He never did ask, and you never objected, it just sort of...happened. There was a bad habit of not communicating between the two of you, your hands and your lips more often than not doing the talking. That, and the tie between you SOULs. Emotions flitted freely between them, and perhaps Gaster thought there was too much reliance on that.

“Not at all.” you answered ardently, “Gaster, you know me. If something bothered me, I’d let you know. If it _really_ bothered me I’d just toss you across the room.”

<You hate being vulnerable.> he noted.

“Yeah, but that’s different.” you said, brow furrowing as you tried to explain, “When it’s you...I don’t know, maybe it's because you’d stop the second I say something? Before that even, you’d sense it.” you shifted in place a little anxiously, “You, uh, know how I scare easily?”

<Yes...> he signed reluctantly, trying to discern where this was headed.

“Sometimes when you do that stuff, it makes me a little nervous. In a good way?” you sighed, running your fingers through your hair, trying to more carefully craft your words, “Like a scary movie-”

<You hate those too.> he interrupted, your varicolored eyes narrowing in response.

“Yeah, just...look, this is really hard to explain. I know nothing bad will happen. I _know_ it, in my SOUL,” you said meaningfully, and Gaster nodded, “So when you do that stuff, yeah, I get scared, but it’s also exciting. Thrilling really,” you paused to unconsciously lick your lips, “I like how it feels, like I’m not in control, even if I know ultimately I am.”

You glanced up at him, searching his eyelights. “...Does that make any sense?”

He stared back with wide, stunned sockets, and you might have misinterpreted that look if you didn’t feel a warmth bloom in your SOUL.

<...It does. You marvelous human, it does.> he bent down to capture your lips, his tongue invading your mouth with a fervency that made you shiver, tasting the premating buzz of his magic. One of his skeletal hands threaded through your hair before forming a fist, capturing your dark brown strands between his fingers. Firmly, but not roughly, he tugged down, forcing your head to tilt up, breaking the kiss and exposing your neck. He took full advantage, nipping at your delicate skin and trailing his magical tongue over the column of your pale throat, your body shivering from his touch.

[I love being in control of you. I love it when you are willing and pliant, when you submit and take it, even when it _hurts_...] the words spoken against your neck were low and rough, the bones of his lips pressed into your skin, digging into your flesh. Not _quite_ hard enough to cause real pain, but the threat of it was _just_ there, a hair’s breadth away. You could feel him panting again, breath shuddering against you.

You could also feel a wetness forming between your legs, your own breath coming in short, quick bursts.

He pulled back, his hand releasing his grip and the phalanges comfortingly running through your locks instead, the foreboding and possessive creature that had been there but a second ago gone. <It terrifies me at times, the things I wish to do to you. I never want you to--to see me like a threat, to ever feel unsafe.>

“I’ve never once felt like that.” you said, earnestly, “I trust you.”

<And I will always love you for that.> He leaned down to kiss you, soft and gentle like there wasn’t something dark lurking in him just under the surface. [May I take you to bed, my dear?] he murmured against your lips.

“Yes, please.” you breathed with a giddy smile.

That was all he needed to hear, and his long arms gathered you up, effortlessly cradling you close to his chest as he carried you to the bedroom.

“I love it when you do this.” you admitted in quiet tones, arms looping around his neck, trailing kisses along the vertebrae exposed above the collar of his sweater. “When you make me feel all safe and secure.” He made a strange, pleased sound, something low and deep, rumbling between a purr and a growl that emanated from somewhere in his ribcage, something surely only a skeleton monster was capable of. 

It didn’t take him long to reach the bedroom, his long legs making the journey down the hall a brief one. He laid you on the bed, lowering his skull to press a hungry kiss to your mouth before straightening up, his bright eyelights peering down at you with an eagerness that made your heart stutter in your chest.

<As you seem quite fond of them, I’d like to play a sort of a game.>

“What?” you said breathlessly, a confused laugh escaping you, “Are you serious?”

<Very. Would you like to hear the rules?> he signed with summoned hands as he rolled up the sleeves of his sweater, exposing the twin bones of his forearms. You nodded, a mix of nervousness and excitement running through you that almost made you squirm. You managed to still yourself when his long arms reached for you, hands gripping your hips, phalanges digging into your clothes.

<You must tell me how you feel about whatever I am doing whenever I request it. And I will do so with this signal-> he tapped the bones of his middle finger against your hip twice. <-and you will respond with a color. Green if you find it enjoyable, red if you do not, and yellow if you’re indifferent. Acceptable so far?>

“Stars, you’ve put a lot of thought into this.” you said, giggling with amazement. 

<I’m not the only one. You’ve cleared your browsing history repeatedly for the last week.> he responded with a flat look. Your face lit up a scarlet red, and you made a mental note to use your phone next time and not the laptop the two of you shared. 

“I was curious about...stuff...” you stammered.

<And I am curious as to what you were looking at, but that is neither here nor there.> His grip tightened and he dragged you closer, looming over your prone form. <Do you accept?>

“Yes.” you squeaked.

<Good, now the second rule...> he leaned lower, skimming his lips over your neck, your head unthinkingly tilting to expose more of yourself to him, a move that made that pleased humming sound again. [You cannot come until I say so.]

You froze, eyes wide as you stared up at the ceiling.

...Did you hear that right??

He stilled, breathing softly against your neck, and you felt something stirring in your SOUL, something probing, questioning. You traced along it, your own senses trying to pick apart the threads of his emotions.

Excitement, fear, eagerness, desperation, worry, anticipation....so much ran through his SOUL, and you wondered how much of it was mirrored from your own.

“Okay.” you whispered.

<You’re sure?> he signed, lifting his head, looking almost surprised.

“Yeah,” you affirmed, your voice breathy, a smile slowly spreading, “Yeah, I’ll play.”

A pleased smile curled Gaster’s lips, holding dark promises in that grin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to split this chapter into two. We earn that E rating in the next one.


	2. Undone

_The sweetest submission_

_Drinking it in_

  
  


* * *

  
  


It was funny how one monster could be such a mess of contradictions. 

He was kissing you again, slow and languid, like there was all the time in the world, but his hands were almost trembling, a fevered rush to unbutton your pants and tug them gracelessly off, the clothing carelessly tossed across the room as soon as he peeled them away from your body. You felt him sigh as the hard bones of his fingers ran over your now bare skin, exploring, squeezing your slender thighs, palming your ass, then roughly parting your legs. Your heart was starting to hammer against your ribs, and oh that was _your_ nervousness now, wasn’t it?

Two taps of bone on your hip.

You tried to break the kiss to answer him but he conjured another hand that gripped your hair, holding your head still while his slow kiss turned more aggressive, his magical tongue working its way into your mouth.

_No fair._

<Green.> you signed, and apparently that was the right answer because he smiled, a softer kiss left to linger on your lips before he pulled back. Two more conjured hands formed, tightly gripping your wrists and pinning your hands against the bed above your head. He took a moment to allow his eyelights to rake over you, laid out underneath him like some willing offering, all while the hands on your legs kept caressing your skin and squeezing your flesh. One of his hands shifted, fingers pinching the sensitive skin of your inner thigh and you yelped from the sharp sting.

Two more taps.

“Y-yellow?” you stuttered. Gaster raised a brow bone as he studied your face. 

That must have been the wrong answer because his unyielding bones only pinched harder, skin bruising under his punishing phalanges. “Ow, ow, fuck, red!” He relented immediately, soothing healing magic dancing over your abused skin. 

<You are supposed to be honest.> he chided. 

“Yeah, well, I’m still figuring out what I like. Besides, you said you liked it when I took it.” you grumbled.

His hands stopped moving entirely, the warm tingles of his healing magic fizzling out, his mouth set in a hard line, <I also said you were to tell me how _you_ feel. This isn’t about me. Alex, I am very serious, I need you to tell me if you don’t like what I’m doing, even the slightest amount.> his fingers trailed further north over your thighs, skimming tantalizingly along the edge of your panties. <Now, if you could please be the selfish one for once we can continue.> His phalanges stilled again, looking you in the eye sternly.

“I will.” you promised.

[Good,] he murmured, the tips of bones shifting to rub slow lines up and down your slit through the fabric of your underwear, [I want to hear you screaming my name when you come undone around my fingers.] he murmured in a low, ominous voice in your ear.

_Fuck_ , you were done for. Your hips canted up of their own accord, chasing those teasing sensations that just were _not_ enough. He grinned at your eagerness, his clever fingers maintaining just that mediocre amount of pressure despite your writhing.

“ _Please_...” you begged, voice breathy. Stars, you already pleading for more and you hadn’t even properly begun, and by the shape of his wide smirk, he was relishing in making you squirm. That did not bode well. Yet he seemingly took mercy on you, his finger hooking around the band of your panties and slowly, teasingly, pulling them down your legs until they haphazardly clung to your ankle and you impatiently kicked them off.

You could feel an unwanted blush heating your face as his eyelights wandered again over your now halfway naked body, glinting with something akin to hunger. He had to have seen you like this at least once. The apartment wasn’t that big, one bedroom, one bathroom, and changing in the same space was inevitable. There was always some modicum of decency, but surely both of you had cast subtle, secret glances at one another. You had seen every bone of his laid bare at one point or another, so certainly he must have seen you like this.

But not so openly. Not so willingly. 

He summoned yet another set of hands (was he at four or five of them now? You’d already lost count) the bones skimming over your legs before carefully parting them, cool air ghosting over your bared sex. The fingers of his hand actually attached at the wrist alighted right where they had been before the thin covering of your core was discarded, his bones feeling almost cold compared to your heat. There he felt a sensation that made a wicked grin split his face. 

[You’re already so wet for me...] 

“Because you’re a fucking tease.” you tried to make the words sound annoyed, but instead it came far too close to a whine. Those hard tips of his phalanges were lightly sliding back and forth between your slicked lower lips, only occasionally gliding over your sensitive little bud. Still not enough, not nearly enough. 

“Gaster, please!” you cried, God, you’d been waiting too long for this. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, obliging you with slow, drawn-out circles of your clit. You groaned, finally getting _something_ , a sensation you could revel in. He was beyond methodical, leaning back to observe every minute change in your facial expression, every sound that escaped your lips. His fingers were precise and measured, grazing in different patterns, different pressures, all to find what made your voice pitch higher, what made you writhe under him, what made you hiss a quiet, _“Yes, like that!”_

It was a delicious sort of darkness you loved.

He tapped your hip twice.

“Green!”

His fingers shifted lower, prodding at your entrance with just the tip of his phalanx before his middle finger sank inside you. You gasped, it felt so _weird_. You’d done some solo experimentation a bit, but this didn’t feel like that at all. Maybe because it was someone else’s digit, or maybe it was because of his bones. You could feel every hard ridge that slid past your wet entrance, counting the number of bones inside you, _one...two...three_. The feeling was foreign and...good? You couldn’t tell yet.

Gaster froze abruptly, his eyelights going dark.

“What?” you whispered, wondering if you’d done something wrong, maybe you were the weird one?

Panic flitted through both sides of the Bond, and after a moment those white lights in his sockets reignited and he reassuringly kissed you, bone brushing softly over your lips.

“Gaster?” you murmured against him, worry still twisting about your SOUL.

[Tight,] he ground out, withdrawing his finger a bit before pushing it back in, deeper inside you now. That coaxed a moan from you, your legs involuntarily twitching, [You’re so tight, need to stretch you out.] His voice was rough, a strained tension there that you’d never heard before. His finger continued to slide in and out, his pace slow, the bones slowly working their way deeper inside you with each press.

_Damn_ his fingers were so much longer than yours. How much more could he fit inside you? How much more could you take? You found the answer when he hit your back wall and you yelped, flinching.

“Yellow, fuck!” you threw your head back, panting.

[Are you alright?] he asked, motionless again.

“Yeah, that just-” you shifted your hips a bit, groaning as the movement resulted in his bones grazing against your inner walls, “-feels weird.”

[There is room for improvement, then.] He slid his bones out before resuming thrusting his finger inside you, slightly faster than before. _Yes,_ that felt good, this pace was what you needed. He was experimenting again, the tip of his phalanx probing your inner walls, looking for those secret places that would be your undoing. His finger curled and he hit a spot that made your jaw go slack as you moaned a lewd note. His eyelights gleamed and he honed in on grazing along that one spot, building you up towards a tantalizing release.

His finger was moving faster now, more insistently, your eyes involuntarily screwing shut as your legs trembled. 

Two taps against your hip.

“Gr-Ahh!” His finger curled inside you again, stroking that one spot and twisting your word into a sharp moan.

He stopped when you failed to answer, his hands going completely immobile as only a skeleton was capable of.

“No, no, don’t do that!” you cried, bucking your hips to try and goad him into moving again. He remained stationary, grinning down at you with dark amusement. 

<Tell me that you like this.>

You opened your mouth to speak again but he twisted his wrist slightly, bones shifting inside you as his thumb brushed against your clit, rubbing back and forth over your sensitive bead. Your words were lost, warped into another moan, your tongue an unruly thing. Shit, you couldn’t talk! He picked up far too quickly how he could apparently render you speechless. His finger started pumping in and out again, keeping that slow, teasing rhythm as before, while gentle brushes of his summoned hands skimmed up and down your spread legs. 

<I’ll let you come if you tell me.>

Your hand still captured by the wrist above your head formed a “G” handshape. You couldn’t twist it in his tight grip to form the sign “green” properly, but it was evidently enough and his phalange thrust back into you, _hard_ , making your body jolt and a startled cry leave your lips as he resumed finger-fucking you. 

[Such a good girl.] he purred, [Now, come for me.]

It was impossible not to obey. He was ruthlessly calculating, his nimble fingers teasing your clit while simultaneously massaging that place inside you, giving you everything you needed to hit your peak, the muscles of your legs going stiff and your toes curling. Eyelids drifted shut as you made a long, carnal utterance, an obscene moan you didn’t think yourself capable of producing as you climaxed. His movements didn’t stop, drawing out the fluttering of your walls against his bones as you orgasmed. 

This didn’t feel the same was when you touched yourself either. Your SOUL felt warm in your chest despite not channeling your magic, but the feeling that raced through you certainly _felt_ like magic. Heated and electric, flooding your body with that fleeting sensation of bliss. 

You felt all shivery, nerves tingling as you came back down, chest heaving. Gaster nuzzled your neck trailing kisses over your skin, up to the shell of your ear. [Good girl.] he rumbled in a pleased whisper, and you couldn’t restrain the strangled whine at his praise. God, you shouldn’t feel such a twisted thrill from those hushed words, but it made something in your SOUL take flight.

His phalange was still buried deep inside you. [Are you ready for more?]

“More?” you echoed in a daze.

[You didn’t say my name.] his deep voice was lined with a hint of a growl, [I said I’d make you scream it while you came around my fingers.] he withdrew his hand from you slightly, bones scraping against your overstimulated walls and then he added another digit. His skeletal fingers were a bit thicker than yours, or at least it wasn’t too noticeable the difference until two of them delved into your slick entrance. 

He began pumping his phalanges into you, slowly allowing you to accommodate and stretch around them. He was right, you were _tight_ , you could feel more keenly now how you squeezed him. Soft sounds emerged from you, pants and little whines of pleasure that you couldn’t help from making.

The hands around your wrists tugged you up, lifting your back off the bed while another set pulled your shirt over your head. Your bralette was next, bones roughly grazing over your bare skin as the last bit of your clothing was removed, leaving you completely naked before the fully clothed skeleton.

His fingers didn’t stop moving inside you all the while.

Predatory eyelights slowly panned up and down your nude form held aloft in his grip, squirming as he fingered you. The white lights in his sockets were larger than you could ever recall, and you wanted to know more than anything what he thought of you just then. 

<Beautiful.> he signed, as if reading your mind, one of your favorite words signed by his slender hands. [Perfect.] he lowered you back onto the bed and leaned down, nuzzling your chest in the valley between your small breasts, [ _Mine_.] His purple tongue lolled out from between his lips, sliding over your nipple. 

Your tone pitched higher, louder, voice hoarse. His tongue was pure magic, literally, and that buzzing, electrical feeling jolted through your nerve endings and you nearly yelled, your back arching off the bed. Your nipple hardened to a stiff peak as he flicked at it with the tip of his tongue, teasing and making that heat reignite in your abdomen. Another free-floating hand plucked and pinched your other nipple, granting both his attention. God, he was everywhere, touching your body in so many places, with so many hands, so many dizzying sensations going off at once, you couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t _think_ , your gaze completely unfocused.

The hard bone of his lips carefully bit down on your pebbled flesh, drawing a cry from you, your head thrown back, and he soothed over it with his tongue, licking and nipping and pinching and--Stars, you were so close again, your hips rocking to meet his hand as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

And then he stopped toying with your breasts, kissing between them just over your SOUL with a gentle brush of hard lips, his fingers inside you again going motionless. [Not yet, my dear.] he said, the words sounding almost taunting, [I did not say you could come yet.]

“Gaster, please, _please,_ let me, I’m so close...” you babbled like some pleading prayer as you jerked your hips, trying to rut up against him, and he retaliated by silencing your words with a fierce kiss and even more disembodied hands that gripped your hips almost bruisingly, forcing you to remain still.

He started pushing his fingers in again with long, slow, drawn out strokes that made you shiver and groan into the kiss, but wouldn’t allow you that satisfaction you _needed._ [You agreed to this,] he said in a sinister lilt as he kissed your cheek, the chaste gesture so out of sorts compared to everything else he was doing to you, [Perhaps I should keep you here all night, begging for your release...]

His mouth moved southward, leisurely trailing kisses and nipping your collar bone as he uttered rough words over your skin. [You can take more, can’t you? You can be a good girl. I’ll even let you come.] The hands caressing your thighs moved, hooking under your knees and spreading your legs even wider apart. [I need to be sure you can take all of me.] he spoke in depraved rasp as he slowly eased a third finger into you. 

This was surely your limit. Everything felt taut, almost painfully so, but so, _so_ satisfying. It surprised you how much you liked the sensation of dancing along the edge of too much, pushing the boundary of what you could take. He seemed to delight in watching you with blazing eyelights gasping as more of his bones disappeared within you, a loud moan sounding when he resumed thrusting them in and out of your stretched entrance. 

[Beautiful girl, just look at you, taking my fingers so well.] he murmured his praise, his eye sockets half-lidded. [Making such pretty little sounds.] his phalanges curled, brushing against your g-spot, making you cry out in pleasure. [So soft and sensitive, my star. So wet for me. So good, _so good..._ ] he was groaning the words now.

You could feel him, his SOUL, reveling in that shared bond. You could feel his love, his devotion. Could he feel how good your body felt? The waves of ecstasy that were rushing through you? 

They were sweeping you up, up, a tension building in you, pulled so taut it was bound to break.

[Look at me.] 

Your eyes flashed open, having long lost track of when they had shut, your body a wild thing hardly under your control, built of instinct and desire and pushed to the very brink.

You could not recall his eyelights ever burning as brightly as they did just then.

You broke, shattered into a thousand fragments that glittered like crystalline stars.

“Gaster!” his name wrenched out of you with a desperate yell.

He kept working you with his fingers deep inside drawing out your peak while murmuring jagged syllables of encouragement as your inner walls constricted around his bones. Your hands balled into fists and your muscles clenched and strained against his many hands that kept you bound and still. It was even more intense than the last climax, your mind blanking out all thoughts, consumed instead by pure sensation and lost in that euphoric feeling.

Eventually, after a minute or an eternity, you came back down, flopping against the bed as your body went slack. His conjured hands vanished, granting you freedom of movement again, not that you took advantage of it. Every limb was limp, your breath still coming in fast bursts. It took a second for your eyes to refocus, but you blinked, drawn inevitably to the glow of his eyelights.

He was just...watching you as you lay there, panting, almost with a look of wonder. You could see his gaze tracing along your parted lips, your flushed cheeks, your chest rising and falling, almost as if he were trying to memorize all of it. Eventually he moved, phalanges carding through your hair while you caught your breath. You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch as the minutes passed, and he bent down to softly kiss your forehead.

His fingers were still inside you.

You almost didn’t notice until they gave a little twitch and you _flinched_.

“God, _fuck_ , don’t-” you choked. You were _way_ too sensitive for that right now.

[It is fascinating how you can clench so tightly.] he commented, tilting his head slightly with interest, [You are so wonderfully responsive.]

“Please don’t move, it’s too much.” you whimpered. His hand smoothed your hair as he tenderly kissed your cheek.

[I know my dear, just relax.] He crooned as he slowly withdrew his fingers, the bones scraping against your almost uncomfortably sensitive and tight walls. 

“No, no no no...” you babbled, grasping the twin bones of his forearm in a white-knuckled grip, the feeling overstimulating. He stilled, regarding you with warm eyelights. 

[Alex, breathe, you are tensing up.] he gently encouraged. You did your best to obey, forcing yourself to inhale through your nose, your fingers that grasped his arm slowly going slack.

[Good girl, that’s it.] He praised as he continued pulling his lengthy fingers from you. A stream of curses spat from your mouth as you willed your muscles not to clench again. It was those fucking _ridges_ , they pressed and rubbed when he moved, and now that you were cooled and raw the stimulation was overwhelming. But as overwhelming as it had felt, you felt strangely empty when the last of his bones gradually slid free, a shudder running down the length of your spine.

You watched with a lazy, half-lidded gaze as he manifested his tongue again and swept it over his phalanges, tasting you. Fuck, that was mesmerizing, and you felt a strange mixture of embarrassed and aroused as he let out a low pleased growl.

<Was that alright?> he asked, with an endearingly cautious curiosity.

“‘Alright’ doesn’t quite cover it.” you rasped, “That was...good. Like, really, really good.” You knew you had the ability to be far more eloquent, but you were too out of it to manage any better accolades than that. 

<I’m glad you enjoyed it.> he signed with a smug grin.

“So, uh, I guess I wasn’t the only one doing some research?”

<Of course,> as if you’d expect anything else of him, <Your human internet has...vast stores of knowledge of female anatomy and mating rituals. Much of it useless, but I found some decently educational sources to study.> he looked down at you with a smirk, <And you are very expressive, my dear. Had I not free access to your SOUL I still imagine I would have navigated that encounter competently.>

“Oh.” you said, cheeks still stained with a blush. Hopefully you didn’t look too silly when you orgasamed. “So, um, we can have sex now?” 

It was funny watching how fast he swerved from smug to panicked.

“ _No_ , not right now, geez, I’m not that much of a masochist. You were, ah, _thorough._ ” you said, pinching your thighs together. You felt relief flooding his SOUL, his alarm abating. 

“But maybe tomorrow?” you asked, almost timidly. 

He looked far too reluctant in return, his eyelights avoiding your pleading eyes. Instead he traced mindless shapes along your arm, phalanges skimming over imaginary lines between your freckles. 

<This weekend.> he offered. Like this was some kind of bartering. It was only a couple of days away, but still, you didn’t understand his hesitation. 

“Alright.” you agreed, not wanting to push him too far. Maybe you did that too much, always asking for more. What if you were rushing too fast for him when he’d asked you to go slow? Were you pressuring him? You anxiously began fidgeting with your fingers.

<What is it?> he asked, looking down at you, eyelights full of concern. And wasn’t it just like you to worry him?

“You’re too nice to me.” you said, smiling up at him half-heartedly.

<And here I thought I was too cruel.> he smirked, dark and devilish again, [Who would have thought you _liked_ my cruelty?] He leaned down to kiss you, tasting like sin, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close, your naked skin brushing against his clothes.

Not you, that was for sure.

But you had the feeling now that you’d opened Pandora’s box, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from exploring those dark treasures within. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my very first smut fic. Uhm, be gentle? Or not. I might be into that. (Or I’m just terrified of what you think, ooooh sweet Celestia, what have I done.)
> 
> Do you have any idea how hard it was not to title this fic with “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails and just open with _“I want to fuck you like an animal”_? Because that would have been a bit too on the nose.
> 
> I also wanted the summary to include “two idiots having sex for the first time”, or perhaps, “Fall reveals all* her kinks in one fic, blow me if you don’t like ‘em”, but that also seemed unwise.
> 
> Well, I hope you like it, sinners. I’m going to throw myself into the void now. 
> 
> The last chapter will be posted in three days.💙
> 
> [Tumblr](http://fallingstarstuff.tumblr.com/) for my posting schedule and asks.


	3. Absolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to break this chapter up but there wasn’t a good stopping point. Grab yourself a drink, it’s a long ride.

_This is his body_

_This is his love_

_Such selfish prayers_

_I can't get enough_

  
  


* * *

  
  


It was raining on Saturday.

You were leaning against the metal frame of the sliding glass door of your balcony, the door open to let the petrichor-scented air into your apartment. The spray of splattering raindrops misted your shins when the winds shifted the right direction, little droplets of condensation running down your bare legs.

Gaster approached, his bones trailing along your spine, an effort to get your attention but you were still drawn to the heavens unleashing their torrent upon the verdant earth.

[What are you doing? You’re getting cold.] he said quietly, his phalanges skimming over your arm where goosebumps had risen on your skin.

“Do you think there’ll be a thunderstorm?” you asked, not answering his question.

He didn’t reply, instead remaining silent until (inevitably) your curiosity and impatience got the better of you and you turned to look up at him.

He was staring at you oddly, studying you with those mismatched eyelights. You wondered what thoughts might be flitting behind them, the color of his mood the usual pensive, on the surface at least.

<You’re being strangely reminiscent.> he signed eventually. 

You smiled softly, “I’ve been looking forward to today for a long time. I’m just thinking about how far we’ve come since then.”

And just like that more of his emotions bubbled to the surface, close enough to sense, but a mess of one spilling over into another. Anticipation was most prominent, but you could distinctly detect his apprehension and fear too. For someone so composed, he felt so much, his thoughts and feelings enough to fill an ocean if you dove into them.

[Come inside.] he gently told you, his large hand pressed to the small of your back to lead you into the apartment. A summoned hand closed the door behind you to silence the sounds of heavy rain, leaving quiet in its wake.

He continued leading you, down the hall to your shared bedroom where he sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, fingers steepled together, his wide mouth drawn into a brooding line, the strange and pensive look present on his skull once more.

You tried not to fidget as you stood before him, to draw upon that patience he was so capable of and you so lacked. 

<Why do you want this so badly?> he asked after an age, and you frowned slightly.

“You’re asking me why I want to share all of myself with you? I didn’t think it’d be that hard to figure out. Especially considering how...Hmm...” you, a little self-consciously, toyed with your fingers, “I really like how it felt. You make me feel...”

You let your own feelings transmit across the Bond, to convey something beyond mere words. 

_Seen. Felt. Understood. Blissful. Satisfied. Cared for. Worthy._

_Loved._

You walked closer, standing before him, almost eye level with one another. Your hand reached up, tracing over the fracture of his cheek, your touch feather-light. He leaned into your touch, eye sockets hooded.

“Why are you so afraid? Is it--Do you not want this?” you quietly asked.

_Do you not want_ **_me_** _?_

[No, no, not that, my dear. I do, it is only-], his phalanges reached towards you and ran down your arm with just the barest whisper of touch. He was silent, no signs, just the growing clarity of his thoughts and emotions welling inside his SOUL.

Your hand fell away from his face. “You think I’m fragile.” you realized, staring at him, your expression halfway between angry offense and hurt. You _loathed_ being thought of as weak.

<You know how much you mean to me. I don’t want to hurt you, not like that.>

“You won’t. You can’t, I don’t think you’re capable of it.” You crawled onto his lap, your knees on either side of his hips and your backside resting on his femurs. “Don’t treat me like I’m made of glass. I hate it when you see me like that.” your arms wove around his neck and his arms wrapped around you, tugging you closer against him.

[Like you’re the most precious thing in the world?] he asked with a rueful grin.

“Like you could break me.” you corrected, a quick and soft kiss brushing over his bones, “I’m stronger than you think, I promise.” you torridly kissed him again, tongue slipping past his lips to caress and slide over his, your fingers digging into his shirt in the empty spaces between his bones. He groaned into the kiss, his breath stuttery and his phalanges gripping you tightly. 

“If you don’t want this, _tell me_ , I’ll back off-”

[I do.] he said ardently, his low words sounding almost pained.

“Then stop holding back on my account. _Please._ ”

He looked over your face, his eyelights darting back and forth between blue and red eyes, searching for something. [You promise you’ll tell me if I’m hurting you? I don’t want you to just take it tonight, I want your word.] 

You hummed contemplatively, “I’ll tell you if you’re hurting me too much.” you amended.

[No.] he said, eye sockets narrowing, [That is unacceptable.]

“Gaster,” you said firmly, your fingers running delicately over his phalanges, “Look at what you’re doing.”

His eyelights drifted down where the tips of his bones were gripping you. One had crept under your shirt, digging in hard enough to leave a little red mark on your skin.

He released you immediately like you had burned him, but you had already encircled your fingers around his wrists so he couldn’t remove them.

“Hey, it’s fine. I like it, remember?” you reminded him, kissing his fractured cheek, “Look, this’ll probably cause at least a little bit of-” you shied away from the words ‘hurt’ or ‘pain’, before finally settling on; ”- _discomfort_ for me, I expected that for the first time.”

[Not if it is done _right_ , from what I’ve read-]

“Did your research include bedding a giant skeleton monster?” you interrupted, arching an eyebrow. 

[Considering you’re the first human to attempt to do so in over a millennia, no.]

“So then this is going to be some uncharted territory. It’s okay, we’ll figure it out together. And if it’s too much, I promise to tell you. Just, _please_ , I want to at least _try_. Don’t tell me no again if you want this too.”

The thumb of his hand traced thoughtless circles around the jut of your hip bone, his eyelights distant and distracted for a moment before they came to focus on your eyes.

[You’ll tell me the moment you become uncomfortable? The second I do something you dislike?] he reiterated, his voice so strikingly serious. Almost desperate, like he needed this reassurance, like it might break him if he didn’t have your word.

“I promise.”

He knew INTEGRITY kept her promises.

He leaned forward, his lips nearly crashing against yours, fierce and wanting, that same desperation reflected in his kiss. [Then I will make you mine.] he growled against you.

He reached for your shirt and you tightened your grip on his wrists, not strong enough to stop him but impediment enough to make him halt. 

“No.” you whispered, sensing his confusion, your lips lifting into an impish smirk, “Me first.”

His brow bones raised in surprise, but a slow, indulgent grin crept over his wide lips. [Very well.]

You released his wrists and leaned up to kiss him again, your tongue tangled with his as your fingers skimmed along the collar of his button-down shirt. You toyed with the first button while you squirmed off his lap, standing in front of him again. Once you had your feet under you, that first fastening was popped open, fingertips brushing over the vertebrae underneath and teasing along the thin gaps between them.

Your fingers worked their way down his buttons, fumbling the lower you got. Eventually, you pulled back from the kiss to actually look at what you were doing. “You couldn’t have worn a sweater today?” you complained. 

[Impatient, are we?] he smirked.

“When it comes to you? Yes. Always.” the last of his buttons was undone, the front of his shirt open to reveal his bones. Of course you got to see them every night, but seeing them like _this_ , framed by his parted shirt, well, there was something sexy about it. His ribs, his clavicles, his spine, all smooth and radiant with hidden inner magic, begging you to touch and run your fingers over.

How could you possibly resist?

Fingertips skimmed down his sternum first, tracing slowly the shape of an upside-down heart over where his SOUL was hidden behind its protective cage. “You know, you never let me explore you. I never got the chance to learn what makes you squirm.”

[You’re a clever girl, I’m sure you can figure it out.] he spoke with a devious grin.

You gave him a mischievous smirk of your own, more than happy to have this challenge. 

Your hands caressed over familiar places, smoothing over his ribs, back up until they trailed over his collarbone (that was one of your favorite bones of his, something about the graceful curve of it just struck you as rather beautiful). Your eyes flicked up to his, watching as he peered down at you, his breath soft and steady--

\--Until you hooked your finger around the bone, sweeping over the underside of it.

The reaction was small, restrained, but you knew him too well by now. Just the slightest widening of his sockets, a momentary quiver of his eyelights, the smallest gap between unnecessary breaths...Your grin was wide and wicked, baring your teeth, knowing you were on to something. Amusingly enough, you felt a trickle of apprehension from his SOUL.

“I have a theory.” you stated, your other hand lifting to his ribs, fingers slipping between them and caressing the inside in a slow, drawn out movement. The texture there was a little different, not the smoothness of river stone, but something rougher, like ultrafine sandpaper. His breath started _shuddering,_ his lips parting. “A few, actually. First is that the undersides of your bones are more sensitive, since they’re less exposed and rarely touched.”

You leaned forward, your hands running down the ladder of his ribs to the lowest ones, tracing along the curving insides until you grazed his spine, fingers wrapping around it earning you a groan. “Second is that you like it when I kiss your bones,” you said quietly, lips pressing against his clavicle, “And you _really_ like it when I use my tongue.” you murmured the soft words against hard bone before your tongue curled around it, sweeping along the underside.

His whole body _jerked_ , bones rattling with the force of it and you tightened your grip on his spine. He was trying _so_ hard to control himself, his phalanges digging into the sheets hard enough to almost tear them. It was funny, normally he was so talkative in bed, and now you were having quite a bit of fun making his breath hitch and quieting his words for once.

“Third is that there’s something as fucked up with you as there is in me.” you said, voice dropping, “That _you like it when it hurts._ ” He went still, his eyelights snapping to yours, eyes shining with something dark and dangerous. Your fingers bent and you dragged your nails over the underside of his ribs, the rasping sound exactly like that of a nail file.

He _moaned_. Your stoic, composed, massive skeleton screwed his eye sockets shut and let out a deep, guttural moan that made goosebumps raise on your arms. You shifted, your nails grazing inwards to his spine while you nipped at the vertebrae of his neck, teeth scraping over bone.

You felt his magic forming between his legs at the same time he gripped your arms and swung you back onto the bed, tossing you about as if you were nothing more than a rag doll. You giggled as you fell backwards and bounced on the mattress, feeling like you’d won this round. “So, how much did I get right?”

His breath was ragged as he clambered over you, staring you down, eyelights contracted to fine points. [You are far too clever for your own good.] he rumbled instead of admitting defeat. His phalanges gripped your shirt, vengefully tugging it up over your head as you lifted your arms, [You may play later, now it’s my turn.]

You couldn’t repress a shiver at that. The corner of his wide mouth smirked as he reached down, tracing along the band of your bra with the tip of his bone. You’d picked the prettiest one (not that your collection of undergarments was particularly impressive) for this occasion, and as he hooked his finger under the center of it you caught a hint of a thought and flashed him a warning look.

“No ripping clothes!” you scolded, and he grunted with a frown. 

[If you insist.] He roughly jerked his hand up your body, dragging your bra up your chest to expose your breasts, then skimmed the hard tips of his bones over your nipples, pinching delicately. He growled that pleased sound when they pebbled under his touch, dipping his skull down to lick at one while you bit back a moan, your spine bowing against the bed. As you did, he slid a hand underneath your back, lifting you closer to him as he lathed over your exposed peak, teasing one momentarily before switching to the other, flicking his tongue against it. Meanwhile his nimble fingers unhooked your bra, pulling it off your shoulders and tossing it into some unseen corner of the room. 

He kept lifting you until you were almost sitting upright, his tongue gliding further up your body till he was at your shoulder, planting kisses along the top of it. 

[You’re too perfect...] he murmured before roughly biting the round of your shoulder, a pained shout leaving you as he left the angry red imprint of his bones. [So wonderfully soft. One day I will mark every inch of your perfect, lovely skin.] His phalanges bent into claws, hard tips pressed into soft flesh, and he raked them over your back, stinging lines left trailing on your skin, just short of drawing blood. You hissed through clenched teeth, grasping at his ribs while he kissed the wounded spot on your shoulder, eyelights glancing down at his handiwork; Five red, thin stripes running parallel to your spine. 

[Would you allow me to do that to you, my love?] he crooned, dragging the bones of his lips over to your neck where he bit you again, drawing out a pained whimper as he left another bruising mark. Tears welled in your eyes and your nails scraped against his ribs in your tightening grasp. Something really was fucked up and twisted in you because you definitely should not be enjoying this as much as you were. Every nerve was awake and screaming and alive, everything rendered sharper, the air rapidly drawn into your lungs almost euphoric. 

“Yes.” you answered in a nearly breathless moan. 

_Anything you ask of me._

He let out another pleased hum, licking the abused skin of your neck. The pleasurable little shocks of his magical tongue mixed with the pain into something _intoxicating_. 

[Some day,] he kissed the bite mark gently, [Not tonight. I’m going to go easy on you tonight.] He laid you down on your back, your skin stinging all the more with the bedsheets rubbing against the irritated scratches. You looked up at him inquiringly, so used to him healing you after leaving marks. You received an unspoken answer:

_Punishment._

He was smirking down at you, all sinful and lecherous. [Not _too_ easy.] he added softly, working his arms out of his shirt as he climbed off of you, standing up to shed his own clothing. You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch (trying not to wince). He was very pragmatic, undressing efficiently like it was merely an obstacle in the way to his ends. Once his pants were kicked off and every one of his bones bared he moved back towards you.

“Wait, wait.” you said quickly in hushed tones, “Let me see you.”

He paused, tilting his head slightly like the request was most peculiar.

You paid his look no mind, your eyes roving over his entire massive frame. He was so handsome, willowy bones of alabaster, ornate construct of marble and magic. Of course, you were drawn to his magical cock in particular. Much like his tongue, it was...inhuman. Purple color and magic aside. The shape didn’t match pictures you’d seen of human males. It was similar, but more tapered at the tip. And, as expected, it was just like the rest of him; _big_.

You weren’t particularly nervous about that, you knew in your SOUL that he’d be careful with you. Looking over all of him again it occurred to you that as someone who once thought of skeletons as frightening, now you could only see him as something truly beautiful, and above all, _yours._ What would happen here in this room, a sanctum for just the two of you, was something only you could partake in.

He chuckled, amused as he caught your thoughts. [Finally learning to be selfish?] he questioned as he kneeled on the floor at the edge of the bed. [I was always yours, my dear.]

His hands wrapped around your calves, tugging you closer and making you hiss again as your back was dragged over the sheets. His hollow hands glided upwards, slowly, until they reached your waist. He began unbuttoning and peeling off your shorts, unhurriedly kissing along the skin that was gradually exposed, one of his large hands wrapping around your bare thigh, lifting it to his mouth, hard bones of his lips nipping lightly.

You glanced down your body, catching his eyelights. God, they were so bright, staring so intensely back at you it made your breath catch in your throat. Your shorts discarded, he reached for your panties next, slowly tugging those down as well before lifting your legs and draping them over his shoulders, his skull situated between them.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you asked in a quavering voice, feeling your cheeks heat up. He’d seen you naked already, hell, his fingers had been _in_ you, but something about having his face right there, _so close_ was...intense.

[I’m sure you can guess.] One of his hands stroked along your side, another groping your rear, kneading your flesh. [Why are you nervous?] he gently asked, and you could feel his breath ghosting over your skin, [You were so eager but a moment ago.]

Ok, yeah, you were nervous. You couldn’t quite articulate how this act made you feel; Open, vulnerable, exposed.

[Do you not trust me?]

“Of course I do.” you quickly replied.

[Then allow me this. It is to help prepare you. I assure you, you will not regret it.] As if to demonstrate his tongue slid over your inner thigh, heat and magic making your breath hitch in your chest.

“Oh god...” your legs trembled, feet kicking slightly with the involuntary jerking motions.

[Relax, dearest.] he soothed, biting lightly on your opposite thigh before his tongue swept over your sensitive skin again.

“Your tongue is m-magic!” your voice warped higher in pitch as it trailed ever closer to your core, “Do you have any idea what that feels like for me?”

[I imagine it is rather intense, given your squirming. If you don’t settle down, I will be forced to make you lie still.] he threatened. 

“I’d probably like that, actu-” Your words died, your body seized up as you felt the cool bones of his lips pressed against your sex. You were waiting for the electrical shock of his tongue, but he left you waiting. Instead he brushed his bones up and down along your folds in gentle, nuzzling motions, and you relaxed, some of the tension running along your spine ebbing away.

[There you go...] he praised, and oh you could _feel_ the low vibrations of his words against your skin. He summoned another hand, his finger delicately dipping between your lower lips to rub gentle circles over your clit, a pleasured whine working its way out of you.

He seemingly decided you were finally complaisant enough, his phalanges abandoning your sensitive bud in favor of spreading your lips apart before his tongue traced a line of heat up your bared core. 

“Fuck!” you nearly yelled, eyes wide, your legs squeezing against his skull. You were _so_ sensitive to magic, it lit up your nerves in ways nothing else could. You could feel it in the air, radiating off monsters, taste the lingering traces of it, sense it in Gaster’s very bones. So to have pure, raw magic _licking_ along the most sensitive place on your body was _devastating._

He was going to _ruin_ you.

And as you looked up at him, catching his eyelights, you realized that was _exactly_ what he intended to do.

He licked again and again, soft and gentle, allowing you to acclimate to the sensations, as best as you were able to do so anyways. The buzzing, sparking tingles made you call out in desperate cries; “ _Please, oh god, please..._ ” You couldn’t tell if you were begging for more or for him to stop this drawn-out torture. 

His lapping glided up to your clit and _holy shit_ his tongue was flexible and he was capable of much finer control than any human could possibly manage. The tip of it encircled that little bundle of nerves, coiling around it, magic burning and firing through you like lightning. Meanwhile his hand that had been parting you now shifted down to slide a finger inside your wanting heat, the accumulating juices allowing the bones to easily sink in. He kept up his assault on your clit while he fingered you, your body clenching around his bones, wanton moans drawn from you.

He loved this. Loved seeing you falling apart for him, something primal in his SOUL was so pleased at making you helpless to the pleasure he gave you. His finger withdrew from your wet passage and his tongue took its place, slithering inside you.

And really there was no other word to describe that flexible appendage wiggling against your inner walls, lapping at all your secret places. His magic was inside you, and it was so blindingly intense that your jerking might have tossed yourself off his shoulders had he not been clinging onto your hips so tightly. Something like a sob escaped your lips and you fisted the bedsheets, bunches of fabric clutched in a white-knuckled grip as he leisurely tasted you with long, deliberate licks that curled over your insides.

Just like the rest of his overgrown frame, his tongue was longer and thicker than it had any right to be, and he was using it to his full advantage, messily delving deep inside you, stretching you out while working you closer to your peak. That flexible tip rubbed and teased that spot that ripped a moan from your throat and his phalanges gripped your hips tight as he greedily tasted you, lapping and pressing and lathing over and over where you were most vulnerable to his relentless attentions.

Your eyelids squeezed shut so tight tears collected in the corners of your eyes. With legs pressed against his skull again you climaxed, his writhing, lashing tongue still ravishing you through the waves of pleasure that made your mind white-out for a moment, the vibrations of his too-pleased hums causing your pitched moans to waver. 

You’d just barely started to descend from that dizzying height when his tongue slid out, one last shivering spark of his magic leaving you before he shifted your limp legs off his shoulders and lowered you gently back down on the bed. He crawled up your body, his jaw coated in your own messy slickness as he leaned down to kiss you, greedy and hungry and tasting of yourself. A bittersweet tang that had you moaning as his tongue ran over yours. 

You could feel his cock then, thick and hard against your inner thigh, the frisson of his magic, just like his tongue. Almost instinctively you rocked your hips, the magical appendage grazing over your skin and pulling a quiet groan from him. 

You were ready. You wanted this.

He picked up on the unspoken thought, pulling back so he could give you one last look, searching for any trace of doubt. 

He wouldn’t find even a hint.

In spite of his growing apprehension, you also sensed he was resigned to what was about to happen. He wrapped his arms around you, hands pressed to your back as he lifted you and moved to the center of the bed. You felt his healing magic washing over your skin, the gentle and soothing warmth repairing the long, stinging lines under his phalanges.

[I need you relaxed for this part.] he explained in response to your questioning look. He reached up, grabbing a pillow to set under your head before he lowered you back down onto the bed. [Comfortable?]

“Yeah.” you answered, smiling up at him. Stars, he was really sweet underneath it all. And nervous, far more than you were. You reached up to wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down to you, your fingers trailing over the back of his broken skull as you kissed him in slow and careful reassurance. Your legs spread, situated on either side of him while he adjusted his hips, angling himself so that the tip of his cock notched against your wet entrance.

He held you in his arms, one under your back, the other clinging to your hip, like he was trying to brace you and keep you as close as possible to him at the same time, like any distance between you was too much. He buried his face against your neck, breathing in deeply before he slowly pushed his pelvis forward.

The very tip of his cock nudged inside, but no more. You could feel the pressure of him pressed against your folds, but your body wasn’t yielding or allowing entrance, the pressure building and your back tensing as you felt his weight against you. He eased up, shifting the angle of his hips, one conjured hand curling around your leg under your knee, lifting it, spreading you further open and trying again. But his cock slipped, sliding up between your lower lips, grazing over your clit and you made a stifled groan. He relented his efforts, his labored breath ghosting over your neck, tension running through his whole, huge frame. He wasn’t frustrated but there was an anxious sort of agitation building in his SOUL.

You were kind of feeling that yourself, because for the first time you considered the possibility that he might not fit.

[I need you to breathe, sweetheart.] he said, voice rough and strained. 

You’d been holding it in without even realizing. 

You exhaled, taking in a steady breath, and he kissed your neck, sweet little brushes of his bones over your skin as he readjusted again. You breathed in, out and--

\--He drove his hips forward in a quick, shallow thrust.

A sharp cry ripped from your throat as his thick cock penetrated you and filled your passage, overcoming whatever resistance your tight body posed. It _hurt_. And not in a good way. A sharp little ache, a strange burn, a pain you were unfamiliar with and had your muscles seizing, your arms around his neck tightening. Gaster was perfectly still, save for his ragged breaths.

[I’m sorry.] he murmured against your neck, resuming soft kisses to your skin in repentance.

“It’s okay.” you wheezed. Fuck, he was _huge_ , and this was only the first few inches of him. 

[Do you want to stop? You are very tense. We don’t have to continue.]

“No, no, just...Give me a minute.” The pain had receded fairly quickly, but you could still feel the tension he spoke of, how your body was almost unbearably tight around him. He summoned yet another hand to run through your hair, the old, soothing gesture making some of that tension ease from you. You focused on just breathing, timing your breaths with his until you felt ready.

“Okay,” you said quietly, swallowing thickly, “keep going.” 

[You’re sure?] he questioned, tilting his head to meet your eyes.

You nodded and after a moment of hesitation, his phalanges on your hip tightened their grip. He lifted his skull, kissing your lips gently as he withdrew slightly and, with a glacial, careful slowness, began rocking into you.

His movements were stiff, especially for one as graceful as him, and exceedingly deliberate. He was keeping his slow thrusts purposefully shallow. Was he even getting anything out of this? Were you? It didn’t hurt anymore, even if you felt an unimaginable fullness inside you charged with his magic. It was...good. Strange, but good.

Experimentally you canted your hips up to meet his as they dipped down, and he slid deeper inside of you, a low, strained groan rumbling from him. 

“Guess you like that.” you said with a smirk, then yelped as his fingers dug into your hips hard enough to bruise, keeping you still and pinned against the bed. 

[I am trying-] he grunted as his hips bucked, [-to be careful-], he plunged in a little harder, a surprised moan escaped you, [-and you are making it difficult.] He was glaring down at you with burning eyelights, and as if to punish you he pushed himself deeper into your wet heat, more of his thick length sinking inside.

“Fuck.” you cursed, eyes going wide at the sensation, your hands scrambling at his back, one catching his shoulder blade, the other hooking around a rib. You felt spread and stretched over him, letting out an indecent little whine as your entrance was made taut around his cock. And oh god, _fuck yes_ , that was good. You felt as if you had to hold on to him, clinging as your small body rocked back while he gradually increased his pace.

[Lie still.] he commanded in a low, warning tone and he released his hold on you, bracing his weight on his forearms. The angle of his thrusts changed as he readjusted, and you understood a moment later to what end when his thick cock rubbed along your inner walls, right at that spot deep inside you that made you fall apart.

“Oh god-- _Yes!_ \--That--” your breath was such a shuddering mess, barely under your control and rendering you almost speechless as he continued rolling his hips into your needy body. And _stars_ , how you needed this. You didn’t get it until just then, but now it clicked; This was an age-old desire, this fire he was stoking in you, something primal about the satisfaction of two bodies tangled up in one another. 

His mouth was pressed into a hard line as he looked over you clinging to him, eyelights bright but cold and calculating. This was no different from when he used his fingers or his tongue, he was aiming to make you come undone, to be that wanton mindless creature lost to the throes of pleasure, calling his name. 

And he was succeeding.

“Gast-Gaster...” your voice was weak, a broken whimper, pleading for something but you didn't know what. He kissed you again, the feeling of his lips and his tongue distracting you while two of his summoned hands gently tugged on your wrists, your grip on his bones slipping. His hands pressed yours against the bed, not the tight grip he’d used last time, thumbs brushing idle circles along your inner wrists. 

He was drawing this out but you were always the impatient one. You still needed more. Your legs shifted, hooking around his pelvis, your own hips jerking up against his and throwing his rhythm off.

_More._

[My little human is being rather impertinent tonight.] he growled when you moved, his careful composure starting to crack. The hands coiled around your wrists tightened in response to your silent demand, [I will give you what you need, I’ll take care of you.] 

He rutted against you, the weight of him pushing you into the bed. Your tensing legs around him didn’t grant him much range of motion but he more than made up for it with his powerful thrusting that sent shockwaves through you. It felt so damningly good, you were so close, moaning as you teetered on the edge, a coil of tension winding ever tighter that was just begging to break...

Until finally, with a relieved, keening cry you came undone. He made that strange growling, purring sound as you orgasmed, constricting around him while he pumped into you. It was amazing how his magic lit your nerves, searing lighting rolling through you, the kind of ecstasy that felt transcendent. 

  
  


Gradually, you started to come back down and he slowed until his movements ceased. At some indeterminate point you realized he was no longer clutching your wrists. You were damn near trembling while he watched you collect yourself and come back to your senses, his cock still buried halfway inside you. 

“You didn't...”

[Not yet.]

His spine straightened as he sat upright, settling his weight on his knees as his large hands wrapped around your waist, lifting and suspending you against his pelvis while your upper torso lay back on the bed.

[You’ll keep your promise?] he asked lowly, voice almost crumbling apart around the edges. 

“Yeah.” you replied, the soft sound dazed and distant in your ears.

He started moving again, slowly at first. He pulled back with his hips, withdrawing from you while his hands gripping your waist dragged you up along his cock before he pulled you back down against him, timing the movement with his rocking hips driving forward. You let out a weak moan, your head lolling back on the bed. _Fuck_ , that was intense! Your toes barely skimmed over the bedsheets and your arms couldn’t possibly hold yourself up, splayed out uselessly at your sides. It didn’t really matter, he was more than capable of using your body.

Skeletons, you remembered, did not suffer muscle strain as humans did. So long as his magic held out, Gaster could hold you and fuck you any which way he wanted, lifting you about like you were weightless. 

And he had a _lot_ of magic.

His pace picked up rapidly, and you knew he was only going slow at first for your sake. This wasn’t an exercise in seeking your pleasure, but _his._ He was moving more insistently, his cock pounding harder into you, each press letting him delve a little deeper, forcing you to take just a bit more of him. 

Until after one particularly powerful thrust and he seated himself fully within you, the bones of his pelvis now flush against your spread thighs.

He stopped, staring down at where your bodies were joined.

[Oh, look at you...] he whispered, almost reverently, [You took all of me, you lovely girl.] he summoned another hand, the tip of his phalanx brushing slow circles over your clit.

You _screamed._

[ _Stars above,_ have you any idea how good it feels when you clench around me like that?] His dark voice was so twisted, drunk with lust, you almost couldn’t recognize it had he not been speaking in wingdings. [Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?] He pulled back, slowly, allowing you to feel every inch his full length sliding out of you before he slammed back in, burying himself completely, a sharp moan wrenched from your throat as a jolt ran up your spine. His words came out as a snarl, [So, so long, I’ve wanted you underneath me, writhing and moaning, just like this. I wanted to see this beautiful body of yours taking me.]

Over and over he pushed you to your absolute limit, feeling nearly painfully full, once more dancing along that delicious knife’s edge of too much. His cock stroked your insides, magic sparking over your nerves, making hoarse cries fly from you until he started ramming into you all the more roughly and your breath nearly left you. He was pounding you intensely enough to knock the air from your lungs, reducing your breathing to sporadic gasps.

[I am going to make you mine, my star,] he spoke in a harsh whisper, [You will _always_ belong to me, body and SOUL.] His fevered eyelights were trained on your face, something close to delirious in those burning white lights. He hadn’t lost himself completely, he couldn’t, not with you so precariously subjected to him, but he was edging closer, caught between cautious control and wild, debased passion.

The wet, lewd sounds of your coupling, his bones smacking against your skin, mingled with your sharp gasps and his jagged but quiet grunts. His phalanges were biting into your flesh, and you would not have been surprised if he was drawing blood, pinpricks of scarlet against pale skin and bone. 

It was overwhelming. And yet somehow it felt so undeniably good, some strange feeling of being completely filled, completely and thoroughly _fucked_ made your toes curl and your legs tense around him.

[Again?] he breathed, astounded by you. 

He adjusted the angle of his hips and his pace became slower, more intent, purposefully grinding his pubic bone against your clit when he hilted himself completely with each powerful press forward, the sensation nearly unbearably overwhelming. You could drown in it, let it choke out all that you were until nothing but this cloying ecstasy remained. You had no idea it could feel like this, that you could feel so much at once. 

...Too much, _too much!_

You let out a strangled whine, weakly scrambling to hold on to something. For some sort of tether before you completely lost yourself, shattering and flying apart. Fingers made of bone laced with yours and you held on for dear life to his conjured hands.

[I’ve got you, you’re ok, just let go.] he reassured you, all the more eagerly pistoning into your body, pushing you to that final release. 

Your back arched, head pressed back into the pillow, a pitched yell leaving your lips. Never had you gripped his hands as hard as you did now, joints protesting from the strain. You came, your climax tearing through you almost violently, crashing over you like a tidal wave. It pulled you under, engulfing you in rapturous pleasure until you couldn’t breathe.

He gave two hard, quick thrusts while roughly yanking on your hips to pull you against him, burying himself so deeply inside you it bordered on painful before he followed you down, his SOUL burning white-hot in your magical senses.

You probably should have asked what happened when he experienced an orgasm, but it was a little late now. You could feel his magic spurting inside you, a warm, liquid, pooling sensation that reminded you of his healing magic more than anything. His breathing seized and there was a tension in his expression, eye sockets closed, jaw set, as his throbbing cock continued to spill over your inner walls. But slowly, gradually, that tension faded by degrees. He began to breathe again and his spine bowed as he lowered himself down, like a great marble tower crumbling apart.

He pressed his forehead to yours, his eye sockets still closed as he panted heavily enough to make his bones rattle quietly.

[I love you. I love you so much, _stars_ , you must know that...]

Oh how you did, the tie between your SOULs almost overflowing with it, warm affection lapping like gentle waves over a shore the morning after a chaotic storm.

He cracked open his left eye socket, fuzzy white ring gazing blearily down at you, [Are you alright?]

You sent a vague affirmative along the Bond, but words were too much for you. _Everything_ beyond breathing was too much, your chest heaving with ragged and rapid pants as if you’d sprinted a mile. His phalanges reached up to tenderly wipe away an errant tear that had leaked down the side of your face before he began petting your hair. He was looking down at you so concernedly, a tendril of worry creeping through his SOUL until you regained some coherency.

“I can’t feel my toes.” you finally croaked.

He blinked at you before he briefly laughed, a senseless sound of stunned relief. Just the small movement made his magical appendage still wedged deep inside you shift and you bit back a yelp.

“Don’t move!...Fuck, why are you still hard?” you gasped. 

[It is magic, my dear. Now, I can just--] his magic dissipated just as all magic did, in a shower of sparks.

Inside you.

You did yelp then, eyes flying wide as you grasped onto his ribs in a death grip.

“Don’t! Do that!” you emphatically hissed, and he looked down at you with a mix of alarm and contriteness, carefully peeling your fingers away from his bones.

[Sorry.] he meekly apologized and lifted your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles before dusting more kisses on your cheeks, over the bridge of your nose, your brow, pretty much any inch he could subject to his affections.

“Alright, okay, okay, don’t--Mmn--” he was kissing your lips now, and you drowsily reciprocated. It was lazy and messy, mingling with your gradually slowing breaths.

“Don’t expect me to move for a while.” you groaned against his bones. You were tired and fucking _sore_ , and it felt like your limbs weighed twice as much as they were supposed to.

[You may lay there all night if you wish it.] he looked you over with concern, eyelights lingering on the bite mark on your neck, [Are you sure you’re alright? I wasn’t too rough?] 

“No,” you quickly reassured him, meeting his eyelights with a wide smile, “That was perfect. You are perfect.”

He smiled in return, his expression relaxing in relief, nuzzling against your hair and breathing a deep sigh against the dark strands. Sedately, he arranged his long limbs across the bed, his hard bones pressed against your body as he held you close, seemingly in no rush to get up either. And you would have been content to just laze there, basking in the afterglow, but you were abruptly very aware of the sweat that prickled your skin and...other fluids that coated your inner thighs. 

“Hey, can?--Um...” you suddenly felt very self-conscious about what you were going to request, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

[What is it?] he asked, in that careful, gentle way of his that always coaxed an answer from you, kissing your temple.

“Sorry, this is dumb, but, uh, can we...take a shower? Together?” your words coming in a hesitant trickle.

He looked over you with a pondering gaze, eyelights intensely searching your face as he studied the emotions leaking from your SOUL.

[...Are you embarrassed to ask because I told you no last time?] you shrank in on yourself when you heard the hint of incredulity in his voice, your cheeks turning a darker shade of red, [When you were dead on your feet and about to pass out??]

“Sorry.” you mumbled, “The rejection just stung a bit.”

[Of course we can...Alex,] his large hands cradled your face, tenderly kissing your forehead, [The thought of taking advantage of you, even inadvertently, sickens me. You’ve had to make choices that you regret-] he gently tapped your chest right above your SOUL, [-I could not bear it if you came to regret this.] 

“I don’t regret any of it.” you said firmly.

[You said you the Bond felt rushed.] he reminded you, thumbs slowly stroking back and forth over your skin, [I wanted to be sure you had the opportunity to make this choice, unhurried and of a sound mind. It was never you I wanted to reject, only the circumstances.] he slowly wrapped his arms around you in a gentle hug, [I hope I’ve made it clear I always wanted this.]

“Yeah,” you sighed, leaning into his embrace, “But you didn’t have to be so nervous over hurting me. I told you I’m stronger than you think.”

He hummed contemplatively, leaning down to nip at the bruise on your neck, the sharp sting making you flinch, [Yes, I did, miss “I can’t feel my toes”, when here I was being gentle.]

“That was gentle!?” you exclaimed.

You looked down at you, something very dark in his gaze, [Yes. It was.]

...Oh.

You felt that strange combination of terrified and aroused and maybe you were a bit of a freak for feeling that way.

[However, you were right,] he continued as he carefully skimmed around the perimeter of the bruise, [You took far more than I would have anticipated. And far too willingly.]

“Oh, so you like ‘em feisty! Good to know.” you teased, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, but not before you caught the slightest hint of violet magic creeping over his bones.

[Infernal little human...] he grumbled, then lifted his head as a realization crossed his mind, [You provoke me because you like being punished, don’t you?]

“Maybe.” you shrugged with a mischievous grin, “Or I just really enjoy seeing you blush.” you kissed his cheek, “I’m still learning what I like, but that’s the fun part, isn’t it?”

He looked at you with that familiar expression of awe and amazement, like he couldn’t believe you were something real, [Indeed it is.]

He seemed quite content to hold you a while longer before the cooling sweat on your skin made you shiver (skeletons were not warm bedmates, his bones almost room temperature) and he shifted, arms sliding under your body as he effortlessly picked you up and carried you to the bathroom. A summoned hand turned on the tap and adjusted the water temperature before he set you down in the tub, one arm braced against your back to make sure you stayed upright.

<Good?> he signed with one hand, watching you carefully as your legs shook. It was for the best he liked to carry you so much because you probably couldn’t walk a straight line right now, even if your life had depended on it. 

“Yeah, I’m not going to keel over just yet.” 

He smirked at your obstinance, stepping in after you and drawing the shower curtain shut, [Ah, good, I have a goal for next time.] Your eyes went wide and you were surely blushing again, face heated from more than just the hot water. You forgot he was also skilled at this teasing game.

“You’re going to be the death of me, aren't you?”

[You know, you humans have a wonderfully apt phrase; _“La petite mort.”_ ]

You groaned, “Please never speak something other than English, you’re breaking my brain.” Having to translate the cipher of his wingdings, and the additional language of French was one layer too many that made your head ache.

He chuckled lowly, [It means “the little death”. Quite the euphemism.]

“Accurate enough.” you sighed, head tilting back under the spray of hot water that soothed some of the soreness of your muscles. His phalanges traced over your body, inspecting all the unhealed wounds he inflicted upon you; The bites on your shoulder and neck, the bruises where he’d held you a bit too tightly.

[Was this too much?] he asked quietly as he skimmed lightly over your hip, sounding almost abashed. He had drawn blood there, little spots of red overlaying bruises in the shapes of his hands. 

“No,” you answered, looking down at the discolored skin, “Do you think it’s weird that I liked it?”

[It is only as strange as we make it. Do you want me to heal you now?]

You shrugged, “It doesn’t hurt unless you press on them.” you grinned up at him, “I dunno, I kinda like the idea of leaving behind some physical evidence. Proof that I actually earned my title.”

He elevated a brow bone, [That title being?...]

“ _Mate_.” you said with a cheeky grin, “Or there’s always _lover_.” you drew out the word in a husky coo.

He grinned, growling that pleased sound as he leaned down to kiss you, your tongue sliding and caressing his. His hands at your hips glowed, his magic warmer and more soothing than the water as he healed you. 

[I want you to sleep comfortably.] he murmured into the kiss as an explanation, [But I am leaving these.] his phalanges skimmed admiringly along the bite marks. It made you shiver despite the hot steam suffusing the air, and you clung to his ribs, content to indulge in the languid brush of lips and heated slide of tongues. That was until you remembered your hot water heater did not have an unlimited capacity and you should really get to scrubbing yourself clean.

Showering with someone else was a surprisingly different sort of intimate experience. Obvious nudity aside, bathing was typically such a mundane and private affair that insight into the little details of an everyday occurrence felt weirdly personal. You learned that Gaster had to duck in a contorted fashion to rinse himself off because he was taller than the showerhead, and he gave a weird involuntary shiver if water got into his eye sockets ([Foreign material in one’s skull is...unpleasant.]). He got to interrogate you in turn on your countless bottles that cluttered up the shelf in the corner of the shower, (“Shampoo. Conditioner. Deep conditioner. Shaving cream. Face wash. Body soap. Body butter. No, don’t open it, that’s the expensive organic stuff!”) and question if all of it was completely necessary (“Yes!!”). Not to mention the weird dance of who got to stand under the hot water and who had to wait their turn.

Somewhere between all that you stole a few more kisses and he managed one more bite mark on your neck before the water turned lukewarm and you were forced to exit the shower.

You both fell into your usual nightly routines (with the additional step of changing the sheets) and for how mundane it all was, you felt...different. Like you’d gained some secret carnal knowledge about your boyfriend and yourself. Or maybe it was the feeling of reassurance that the two of you, already permanently tied together, were in fact compatible in this way. You could share everything now, beds and bodies and SOULs. That center of your being felt aglow in your chest, content. As you turned out the lights and crawled into bed next to Gaster your senses trailed over the Bond between your SOULs, basking in that shared connection, bright and warm, singing with a feeling of completion like a resolved chord.

You lay in bed on your side and he brushed his phalanges through your hair, down your neck, along your spine before lifting his hand back to the crown of your head, almost meditative in the repetitive motions. So clearly you could feel his love, and some accompanying possessive concept that took you a moment to parse, wordless as it was.

“Why do you call me that?” you sleepily drowsed, and he replied with an equally tired ‘Hmm?’ hummed in response. You rolled over to face him, “‘My star’, you said that before.”

[Ah, yes.] he flushed that pretty amethyst color that glowed in the dark room, [I never did tell you...] he nuzzled against your hair and you felt him breathing in deeply, [I’ve loved you for a long while, long before I admitted it out loud.]

“Signed it.” you corrected him, and giggled when he bit your ear in reprimand.

[As I was trying to explain,] he growled in your ear, [Back then when I first met you, when I first fell in love, I always thought of you as my North Star.] he rumbled indolently, running his tongue along the shell of your ear, a delighted shiver running down your spine before the dark, smokey sound of his voice resumed, [Humans navigated by the stars, yes?]

“Yeah.” you answered quietly, not wanting to disturb him by nodding.

[You led me out of the darkness. Your SOUL was my guiding light.]

“...You are ridiculously sentimental and I love it.” you said mirthfully and he huffed a sigh. 

[I would hope so, I have no plans to stop.]

You tucked yourself against him, just as you did every night, sighing happily as he curled around you in a protective cage of bones that held you tightly. This was your safe haven, secure in his arms. This was exactly where you belonged.

And when you slowly drifted into that hazy space, the limbo between consciousness and sleep where your thoughts lost coherency and wandered to strange places, there was a sentiment that was threaded through and echoed about your SOUL, a perfect reflection felt in his: 

  
  


_I love you._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this fic and lyrics are from [Bedroom Hymns by Florence + The Machine](https://youtu.be/KcwkHvvrqHE)
> 
> \---
> 
> ...
> 
> ...
> 
> ...I’m not sure what to say for myself, other than I hope you liked it.
> 
> [Tumblr](http://fallingstarstuff.tumblr.com/) for my posting schedule and asks. You can also find me on the [Gaster's Followers Discord server.](https://discord.gg/u45p9eJESN)
> 
> 💙 Stay safe, and stay DETERMINED. ❤️


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